Twilight Smuggler
by kyuubicle
Summary: Ex-pirate Arthur Kirkland is forced to go to America, escorting some kind of top secret object to Coahoma, TX. When he is kidnapped by a smuggler named Alfred F. Jones, he isn't sure how to react when he starts feeling something for the American. USxUK
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Twilight Smuggler**

**Rating: T**

**Pairing: Cowboy!America x Ex-Pirate!England**

**Axis Powers Hetalia does not belong to me.**

The full moon above threw a ghostly white glow over the entire area, making the sand glisten as though it were housing diamonds. A small town lay below the clear sky, absorbing the soft light. The town was completely still. Nobody was foolish enough to wander around the desert at night, even in such a small area. _Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. _An old sheriff probably as old as his police station, walked across the deck of his aged police station. Ever since the place had begun taxing the alcohol, a group of ruffians had taken the liberty of smuggling it into the taverns and inns around town. The officer honestly did not agree with the tax, but it was law. And it was his job to enforce the laws. A soft breeze brushed against the aged man's face.

The sound of a coyote broke the silence of the night, followed quickly by another.

Blue eyes stared hard into the darkness, waiting for the signal to move. This was one of his biggest runs tonight, but he was a hero and heroes never failed! The blond wiped at his sweaty brow, readjusting his glasses after he accidentally bumped them. A coyote's howl pierced noiselessness of the midnight hours. That was the signal. The American quickly scrambled to his new position at an abandoned mine shaft. This is where the delivery was supposed to be.

A tall albino was ducking behind a metal cart, gesturing for the blond to join him.

"I heard that the sheriff got tipped off. God damn spies." The albino hissed. The American patted the German's-though he said he was Prussian for some odd reason-back reassuringly as he readjusted his hat. It wasn't like the sheriff could catch them. To be honest, most of the smugglers were young men and to be frank, the sheriff was way past his prime. There was absolutely no way he would be able to catch them even if he wanted to.

"Like, get over here guys! We have that stuff you, like, want." Came a soft whisper from behind the two men. They turned to see a man dressed in all black except for his boots, which were hot pink and had a white fur lining. "Like, the Spanish one said he totally needed you two because everything's, like, totally way heavier than he though. He sent this one to keep watch." The man brushed his blond hair from his face and led the two men past a brunette who was currently damning the Spaniard to hell.

"_Amigos!_ We have a few barrels over there! Grab 'em quick!" a deeply tanned male instructed, his green eyes sparkling with adventure and adrenaline-the authorities cold show up any minute now. The Prussian and American followed the orders and followed the Spaniard a rundown tunnel.

"Awesome! Another success by us!" the blue eyed male laughed.

"Don't say that until we get to the crusader." The albino warned.

Gunshots.

"Damn…I knew they were coming." The Prussian groaned as he dropped his barrel off behind a tree.

"It was bound to happen eventually." The blond grinned, pulling his guns from their holster. The Prussian followed suit. He was ready for a fight. It was about time they got some action!

"Look, guys. The last thing we want is to be recognized. How about we just come back and pick up the barrels tomorrow?" green eyes were filled with concern and little bit of warning. It was true though. It was a small town and they would be recognized easily. Both men put up their weapons and followed the Spaniard. Alfred froze.

"Guys-we forgot about Romano…"

"Shit…" the Spaniard cursed as he sped in the direction of the gunshots. The albino and the blond quickly ran after him, taking out their guns again. Sure enough, Romano was cornered by a few thugs.

"So what're doing way out here at this time of night?" one of them asked.

"Shit! Can't a guy just go for a walk at night?! Dammit! You guys are annoying!" Romano spat, tears streaming down his pink face.

"What is there to possibly see at a mine shaft?"

"It has a nice view of the landscapes, dammit! I'm a painter! I need inspiration, bastards!"

"I don't really think you're out here looking for inspiration, kid." The leader of the thugs said, cracking his knuckles.

"Stay the hell away from me you bastard!" Romano screamed as the man stepped closer. Romano was up against the cliff wall; he had nowhere to run.

"I don't think I appreciate that kind of mouthing off directed at me." The man grinned as he pulled out a knife.

"Shit! Stay away from me with that!" Romano yelled. The knife was getting dangerously close to his face. _Bang!_ The knife was shot out of the thug's hand as he cradled the bleeding appendage. Everyone looked up, seeing a silhouette of a man against the full moon.

"Excuse me, sirs. I think you're messing with the wrong people tonight." The blond grinned as he hopped down in front of Romano, followed by his companions. The American's blue eyes were flashing dangerously as he readjusted his cowboy hat cockily, poising one of his guns at the ready. "I think it'll be best if you just scamper away back to your hole and forget this whole thing."

"And just what the hell makes you think we will?" one of the thugs piped up. He had a large build and large ears to match. Romano was being comforted by the Spaniard, a stream of curses falling from the Italian's mouth and heavy tears falling from his face as he buried his face into the other man's chest.

"Because I'm Alfred F. Jones. That's why." The blue eyed blond said as he beamed at the gang, twirling his guns around his index fingers skillfully.

~*~*~*~*~

Arthur Kirkland breathed in the sweet smell of the ocean spray around him, the wind blowing his hair in random directions as is gently caressed his face. It reminded him of the days when he would sail the sea for weeks on end, attacking ships and taking anything of worth aboard with his own monster of a ship _The Pride of Tortuga_. He remembered the countless brawls he had gotten himself into, the countless bruises and scars he had gained from near death experiences, and the countless people he had met. The thrill of living the life of a pirate was most satisfying and exhilarating. The Brit stared at the open ocean, his entire self completely relaxed and at ease. _This is where he belonged_. But his pirate days were over now. He was now representing the country of England across the pond in America.

There was a large shipment of something top secret being hauled to America from England. Of course it was top secret. The government officials that were sending it over hadn't even told the prime minister what it was. Apparently it was so important that everybody had to wait until the unveiling of it in the American nation. Arthur just guessed it was some priceless piece of artwork that his home country was sending across the pond. Why Arthur needed to guard it was beyond him. Maybe it was a trick? Why couldn't the Brit just go back in time where he knew what every bit of anything that got on a boat was?

"Ugh…I hate sailing…I hate boats. Why did you force this upon me, _mon ami?" _the Frenchman sobbed, hanging over the side of the ship.

"What's the matter? A little seasick?" Arthur asked with false concern. Francis glared at him, his face slightly green. "Look! You should be happy! You're almost as green as the frog you are!" Arthur laughed. "And this wouldn't have happened if you kept your mouth shut about me having to go to America. But you just _had_ to tease me."

"You have no humor!" Francis whined.

"I have humor. I happen to think this is very funny." The Brit said dryly, raising his impressive eyebrows. The conversation ended with that. Francis stumbled back inside to lie down on his bed. Arthur shook his head. They would be there soon enough and the Frenchman could get back to his annoying, perverted ways that annoyed the Englishman to no end.

~*~*~*~*~

Matthew nervously cleaned a glass and skimmed over the newspaper in front of him as he waited for his brother to return. Alfred had been gone three hours past when he said he would be here. Did the sheriff catch them? Were his brother and his friends currently sitting a rain cell and Matthew sat behind the counter of _The Needy Crusader_? The Canadian bit his lip. Alfred wouldn't get caught. He promised that he would come back to protect his baby brother from the horrors of drunks, though Matthew could take care of himself just fine. The curly haired blond put down the glass. Alfred would come back like he always did. The door creaked open and there stood a very happy American carrying two barrels followed by Gilbert, Antonio, and Romano.

"Al! I was so worried!" Matthew yelled as he ran to hug his brother.

"Of course you were. You're always worried." Alfred laughed, setting down the heavy cases.

"What took you so long?! You were supposed to be here three hours ago!" the Canadian sobbed.

"We had a bit of a run-in with these thugs and had to take care of them. Then we went back to get the poor abandoned barrels! We were going to wait, but we figured someone might take them if they saw them." Alfred rubbed at the back of his neck. "So what's that you're reading?" the American asked, picking up the newspaper that lay abandoned on the counter.

"There was something pretty interesting in there involving England…" Matthew started. Alfred shushed him.

"_England Sends Top Secret Item to Coahoma, TX_

_Approximately three days ago, a ship left the country of England for America with a gift to our country. The item is being transported by train to Coahoma, TX and will be there in about two days. The gift is being transported by Arthur Kirkland, accompanied by his associate Francis Bonnefoy. The item in question is assumedly priceless but we are unsure what it could be and why it is going to Coahoma of all places in America. Officials are wondering if it has anything to do with the recent alcohol tax in Coahoma…"_

"That's pretty interesting. Probably the biggest thing to happen since rodeo clowns." Alfred thought.

"Yeah, eh. I guess. Do you really think it will help with the tax?" the Canadian asked.

"I don't know. I doubt it. Why would England of all places help a little town like this one? I really don't think they care." Gilbert laughed.

"Who knows? It's not like I really care though. I'm not entirely sure how he would help. Unless he can get rid of Syndicate K entirely." Alfred laughed.

"Well…I think there is some way he can help…" Gilbert said, a smirk decorating his face. Matthew shuddered. He knew that smirk well. That smirk could only mean one thing. Gilbert had a dangerous plan in mind that he wanted everyone to go along with. Alfred grinned, his blue eyes shining.

"Let's hear it then."

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Arthur awoke on a rickety train, surprised that the loud thing hadn't galvanized him earlier. He lifted his head off of someone's shoulder.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." Francis's voice asked.

"Oh shut up…" Arthur groaned as he rubbed his tired eyes. "How much longer until we're there? I can't stand being on this train much longer."

"We should be arriving in a few hours. The conductor took a short cut and cut our trip in half." Francis explained. Arthur resituated himself on the Frenchman's shoulder. "Are you feeling alright, _mon ami_?"

"I'm tired of this train. I'm tired of the hot temperatures. I'm tired of the desert. I'm tired of land…" Arthur grumbled.

"We'll be there soon enough." Francis smiled.

"You'll never talk about this to anybody." Arthur said. "Or I'll personally see to it that you won't have a single hair on your body."

"I swear I won't say anything." The Frenchman laughed.

~*~*~*~*~

"We're at an understanding, correct, Mr. Mayor? Da." The Russian asked as he smiled menacingly at the tied up man at his feet. The mayor nodded violently. "Good. I'm happy you understand what you are supposed to do in times like this. You are a very smart politician." Which was true. Many mayors before this one had been…dealt with accordingly.

The mayor squeezed his eyes shut. Why? Was all he could think. What did this group-whom called themselves Syndicate K-have to accomplish by taking over such a small government? The mayor didn't know. The only thing he knew is that if he didn't do what these people wanted, he would surely die.

"M-Mr. Braginsky. We have to get going. There is a very important m-meeting we must attend." A young brunette stammered, shaking so much that he looked fuzzy.

"Da? Okay, Toris. Thank you for reminding me. Goodbye, Mr. Mayor. I do hope you enforce those policies I suggested." The Russian laughed sinisterly as he led his companion out the door. The mayor let out a long sigh. His town was going to get even angrier. It was already bad with the smugglers. What else could they sneak in without hurting Syndicate K? The only reason the group was raising the tax was for money for themselves. They basically controlled all of the products that came in or out of the town. Without Syndicate K, the town would fail. With Syndicate K, the town would be put in debt and residents would leave, also bringing the town into failure. His town was doomed no matter what he did. He might as well as do the thing that was least life threatening, even if it turned his town against him.

~*~*~*~*~

The next day, the new policies were posted on every public door in town, and every person in town was outraged by its crazy regulations. Gilbert took the liberty of saying what was on everyone's mind.

"What the fuck is up with these damn control?! I think most of us are all a bit old for a curfew!" the Prussian yelled.

"Dammit! I can barely stay indoors for five minutes without that Spanish bastard attacking me!" Romano piped in.

"Alfred? You're a bit quiet…" Matthew asked. Alfred remained silent.

"I'm more concerned about that." Alfred said as he gestured to the paper underneath it. It was a poster addressing "the ruffian smugglers" that had been terrorizing this town's integrity and government. It was all bunch of fancy mumbo-jumbo that Alfred didn't quite understand, but one thing was clear. The town's security was going to be tightened by probably one thousand. The last line in particular was one of the only lines that Alfred understood. _Anyone who is caught being, helping, or even associating with the smugglers would immediately be arrested and put under the mercy of Syndicate K. _

"How much you wanna bet that Syndicate K is scared we're going to become thieves?" Gilbert laughed bitterly.

"I'm thinking a lot." Antonio replied.

"I'll bet you that "precious item" coming here is of great importance them." Alfred smirked, his blue eyes flashing knowingly.

"Sounds like it's time to go plan a scheme." Gilbert laughed.

**Author's Notes:**

**Coahoma, TX is a real place. It has a population that doesn't even reach 1k. I wanted to use a real place.**

**Uhm…I wanted to write a cowboy!America and a gentleman-ex-pirate!England thing. Oh my~ corrupt government is corrupt! Oh no! Hopefully nobody's out of character too much. Idek. I really kinda like this so far. Hopefully you all do to! **

**Please read and review~**


	2. Chapter 2

"No place like the Wild West, right Arthur?" Francis smiled, staring at the red and brown landforms passing by the large window of their train cart. Arthur grunted, earning a grin from his French associate. He didn't even look up from the book he had been reading for the past three hours.

"It's just a bunch of sand and rocks…" The Brit sighed, keeping his eyes on the reading material.

"And the ocean is just a bunch of water and blue and yet you love it." Francis sneered. Arthur growled at him, signaling that Francis should stop talking if he knew what was good for him. "So what do you think is in the box?"

"I don't know and I do not care. And don't talk smack about the ocean, Frog." Arthur replied.

"You have to at least want to know a little bit~" Francis hummed. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Don't you even think about trying to go poking your nose in it. It's not any of your business, nor is it mine." Arthur huffed. Francis started to pout, mumbling something about Arthur not being any fun since he got into the government. Finally. Silence. Just what Arthur needed. He flipped a page of his novel.

"So what exactly are you reading?" Francis asked.

"It's a wonderful thing called a book. You should look into it." Arthur replied slowly.

"So in other words, it's an erotic novel." Francis yawned as he leaned back on the cushion. "All you had to say, _mon cher._ You always over complicate things…"

"I-I'm not reading such degrading material." Arthur spat. Francis waved his hand weakly before drifting off for a short nap, which was completely understandable. The only things to do were read, sleep, or talk. It wasn't like talking to each other was one of the best ideas, unless they wanted to make the conductor believe that the train was under attack. Speaking of the conductor…an older gentleman slid the compartment door open, fixing his navy blue uniform quickly. His white hair was hidden under a cap and his matching mustache twitched before he spoke. He would hardly looked a day over forty-five had it not been for his hair color.

"Hello, lads." The man had decided to come and check up on the two passengers---two of five passengers. But they were very important people after all. Arthur nodded in acknowledgement.

"We are hardly lads, sir." Arthur laughed.

"Ah…everyone is a lad to me." The man laughed. Arthur cocked an eyebrow, but decided he should press matters. "We will be arriving in about thirty minutes. I suggest you make sure you have everything."

"Thank you very much, Mister---" Arthur stopped. The conductor had already left. Arthur shrugged. He probably wouldn't meet the man again anyway. Francis was fast asleep. _Maybe if I'm really quiet, I'll be able to abandon him_…Arthur thought to himself. As appealing as that was, it would be best to make Francis suffer in the heat of the desert.

The train had arrived at the platform of the train station. Francis and Arthur were not, however, at their destination. Apparently there was no railroad through Coahoma. The rest of the ride would be carriage as they were told, but it was subject to change. The sun was beating down, what with the station being open to the elements. _Stupid sun. _Somehow sand had made its way into Arthur's shoes and was dirtying his suit. _Stupid sand. _Francis slapped a brown cowboy hat on Arthur's head. _Stupid frog._

"So what do you think our chauffer will look like?" Francis asked, slapping on his own hat. "Oh and thanks for helping with the suitcases. Nice to know all you care about is that box."

"Shut up. How should I know what he will look like?" the Brit groaned. He was probably just going to be an average guy. No doubt without a sunburn and a cowboy hat, as it seemed everyone had each. Arthur expected the guy to have a silly accent too and basically every stereotypical thing he could think of. That was how he pictured him. Francis pointed at a wanted poster, saying something about it looking similar to the ones Arthur used to be on when he was an outlaw, only the person was worth much more that the political figure. Arthur slapped the Frenchman on the arm.

"Excuse me. Are you Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy?" a voice asked. Both Europeans turned to see what Arthur could only describe as one of the only most handsome beings he had ever seen. The man standing in front of him at the moment was only a few inches taller than himself. The first thing Arthur noticed was his arms. Not only were they very well defined, they were very nicely tanned-along with the rest of his skin. He was wearing a light gray tank-top and dark blue jeans with-of course-faded brown cowboy boots. His blond hair was tucked under a faded hat and his smile was about as bright as his gleaming baby-blue eyes.

Arthur didn't move an inch. He just stood there, gaping like an idiot at this person. Francis nodded curtly and began talking to the lad. Arthur loved the sound of his voice. There was a little bit of a twang, but not by much. It was also at the perfect octave in the Brits opinion. The American laughed at something Francis had said. Arthur was in awe. He had better say something.

"Excuse me, but the who the hell are you?" Arthur asked a little bluntly. The American turned to look at him, a little surprised that Arthur actually spoke.

"So you can talk!" he grinned. "Oh, but yea. My name's Alfred F. Jones. So that makes you Arthur Kirkland, right?" Arthur nodded. "You're…different than I expected. Especially those eyebrows! What's up with those things?" Alfred giggled. Arthur slapped his hands to his forehead protectively.

"There's nothing wrong with my eyebrows!" he yelled. Francis and Alfred shared a grin. "Oh whatever. I don't want to hear some kid like you make fun of me."

"I'm not a kid. I'm 19 years old. Compared to your…actually I really can't tell your age, but I'll bet you're old."

"He's the old one!" Arthur pointed a finger at Francis. "I'm 23 thanks!"

"I'm three year older than you…" Francis whined.

"Yea yea. Whatever. Keep your pants on." Alfred waved his hand passively. "So what's with the box?"

"It's what's being transported to that town. Why it's so important, I do not know." Arthur grumbled as he tucked the box into his over-the-shoulder bag, spinning around so his back was to the American. It was entirely this box's fault he was here.

"Oh, hey. I almost forgot. Are you guys allergic to anything?" Alfred asked.

"Um-no?" both Arthur and Francis said at the same time. That was an odd question. Arthur felt a hand press up against the side of his head. "What the bloody hell-?" His skull was immediately forced to the side, where it met with another skull, leaving them both discombobulated. A damp washcloth was pressed to his face. It smelled pretty sweet actually. Like sugar and fruit, making Arthur want to inhale more of the sweet scent. Arthur was starting to feel numb and tired. Oh wait-

"H-hey! This is…chloroform…" Arthur's knees gave out and he tumbled to the ground. A heavy weight, without a doubt Francis, toppled over him a few seconds later.

"Sorry about that. But it's necessary." Alfred apologized. Had Arthur had control of his muscles, he would kick the brat for all it was worth. The last thing he remembered seeing was a pair of blue eyes filled with concern.

*~*~*~*

"It must be Christmas! You got me exactly what I wanted! A blond all tied up. You've really outdone yourself this time." Gilbert cheered as Alfred dismounted his horse. Alfred smiled at him uncertainly. The albino poked at one of the guys that were slung over the second horse. "What's this one's name?" he continued to poke and prod at the passed out blond. Alfred slapped his hand.

"They aren't for you…" the American rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

"But Alfred! I want him!" Gilbert whined. "He looks adorable! Though there are a few flaws…like those eyebrows and he has a rather girly frame-nowhere near as awesome as me, but hey, nobody can be as awesome as me so it's forgivable. But other than that he's pretty cute!"

"Quiet and help me get them inside." Alfred hissed. Gilbert nodded and slung the British captive over his shoulder.

"So who are these guys?" Gilbert asked.

"Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy." Alfred replied, kicking the door open to the bar. He and his brother lived upstairs and it was actually very comfortable. There were a couple bedrooms and even a small den up there. "We're going to take them upstairs, okay?" The albino nodded.

"These guys obviously aren't very good at protecting things…" Gilbert groaned as they got to the upper floor.

"Well…all the better for us."

"My question is, didn't you just want the item? Why did you take the people too?" Gilbert stared at Alfred for a very long time. The blond wasn't answering him.

"W-well. They saw me. They could give my description and let's face it. It's hard to mistake anyone else for me." Alfred winked. The two men shared a long look before bursting into a fit of laughter. Poor Matthew was always being mistaken for Alfred-mostly for some of the worst things like some of the shenanigans Alfred got into that made people like Ludwig angry. "Um, you put him in that room and I'll put this guy on the other room." Alfred felt Francis twitch. Apparently chloroform didn't last very long on this guy. Gilbert obeyed and they met back up in the den.

"So what do you think the Synnies want with what they got?" Gilbert asked.

"Oh hey! Arthur had a box in his bag! Lemme go get it!" Alfred sped into the room and snatched up the bag. He rifled through it, finding papers, notes, pens, a bag of glitter, a stick with a star at the end of it, some tiny books with weird writing in them, and some headache medication. No box. Alfred could have sworn he had seen Arthur put it in there. Oh well.

"Hmmnnn…" the man that was currently doped up shifted slightly in his sleep, moaning something in his dreaming state. Alfred stared at him for a minute and then walked off. Whatever was going through his head didn't make sense, so he ignored it and decided he might as well as join Gilbert again.

"Well?" the Prussian greeted him. Alfred shook his head and shrugged.

"We'll just ask when they wake up, I guess." That was all they could do really.

*~*~*~*

"Excuse me, sir. Has a Mr. Arthur Kirkland arrived yet?" Ivan Braginski was getting impatient. The ticket man stared at him groggily for a moment before glancing down at his clipboard.

"What train was he on?" he yawned.

"The only train that has been here for the last six months, you fool." Ivan smiled sweetly.

"Was he on the train this morning?"

"I believe I just said that, da." The man slowly flipped through his papers, highlighting a few things before looking up at Ivan again.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"…"

"Sir?"

"…"

"Excuse me. Sir, if you are not in need of my assistance, I would appreciate it if you would go sit down." The boy stretched obnoxiously. Ivan glared at him and cleared his throat. He slammed a hand down on the desk, scaring the poor sleepy man, and put on the calmest face he could muster.

"Excuse me. I would like to know the time of arrival of the only train scheduled to come here today."

"I-i-i-it's already arrived, sir. About three hours ago!" the young man was backed up against his wall. The Russian glared at him.

"So Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy have already left?"

"Y-yes sir!"

"…"

"Please don't hurt me."

"…this angers me, Toris. I think it is time I go speak with our colleges about this…" a small brunette-obviously Toris-flinched a bit and his whole body was shaking uncontrollably. He mumbled something and followed Ivan out of the building. Every time they had to talk to his associates, something bad happened. Something very bad.

*~*~*~*

When Arthur woke up, the first thing he noticed was the searing pain in the right side of his skull. He assumed it might have been from drinking, but he quickly remembered he had not been to a pub in a sizeable amount of time. Arthur groaned. Where the heck was he? He felt around the best he could, seeming as how his wrists were bound. He was on a bed, no doubt about that.

"Oh god…Please don't tell me I'm getting raped." Arthur gasped. Too many a morning had he woken up in Francis's company, though the Frenchman never actually did anything, so Arthur was still pure as far as he knew. There was a soft knock before some random part of the dark wall opened up, the door. A young man with blond hair stepped into the room. Arthur flinched. "You!" Arthur growled. Now he remembered! He had been drugged! And kidnapped! "You're the guy who used chloroform on me!"

"I-I-I-!" he stuttered. Arthur glared at him. He seemed less confident than when they had first met. "I'm not Alfred. I-I'm his b-brother, M-M-Matthew." The poor boy was shaking in his boots. "I'm sorry you've b-been dumped here without you kn-knowing." Arthur softened his gaze. He wasn't sure what to say. Matthew shifted uncomfortably. "U-uhm...I-"

"Hiya. I see you're up now!" Matthew's brother walked in with a wide grin on his face. Yep. This was the guy that kidnapped Arthur and Francis. No doubt about it. Arthur felt his mouth go dry. "You aren't a very talkative person, are you?" The Brit scowled.

"You think you can kidnap my associate and me and joke around? Not only kidnap, but drug, bind, and throw us into random areas?" Arthur seethed. Alfred looked at him innocently.

"Look. I just need you to-" Alfred began.

"Oh! I'm not doing a bloody thing for you at all! Unless of course it's to break every bone in your body. That I wouldn't mind doing for you."

"You don't understand-"

"What? There's a misunderstanding? Is there something I'm missing? I'm pretty sure you kidnapped me and-" Alfred slapped his hands over Arthur's mouth and looked at him seriously, his eyes a very deep shade of blue.

"Look. You have something I need. Something to help out with the town. It's a bit under…well a bad kind of control and there's nothing we can do about it without some kind of leverage. Surely you can understand that." Arthur shook Alfred's hands off of his face. There was a clatter of glass downstairs. "Did you remember to lock up, Mattie?"

"Yes. Of course I did." Matthew replied.

"A fine time to get robbed. I must say bloody fantastic on your part." Arthur said dryly. Alfred shushed him before flipping him onto his stomach. "HEY!"

"Listen. I'm going to get you out of this stuff. You have to promise not to run off. There are no towns close by. The desert is practically endless and there's no water supply for miles. Not to mention all the dangerous animals out there." Alfred explained quickly as he untied Arthur's bindings. "I think it goes without saying that you're safer with me than out there."

"Oh, some kind of hero, are you?" Arthur snickered.

"Exactly!" Alfred winked and dragged Arthur out into the den where Francis was waiting for them "Okay, you two. Follow me no matter what, okay?" Alfred stepped towards the window and pushed it open, motioning for everyone to follow him.

"You expect me to crawl out the window?" Arthur said dumbly. Alfred scowled.

"Yes?"

"I can't climb out of a window." Arthur lied. He could to climb out of a window. Expertly, he might add, though he had not done so in years. Matthew and Francis had already made their way down the side of the house and were on the ground. Arthur just didn't like the idea of being caught with an outlaw. Alfred thought about it for a second. There were loud footsteps making their way upstairs.

"Okay okay. Then get on my back." Alfred could see the Brit's face turn red slightly. "It won't be that bad. Unless you'd rather be stuck with murderers. Well, they'll more or so torture you to death, but whatever." Arthur's eyes went wide before he stepped towards the American.

"If you drop me, I swear to god I am going to bloody kill you." he grumbled as he wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck.

"I'm not going to drop you. The hero doesn't drop people." Alfred replied. "And it's only the second floor. I could jump out without getting hurt. But I guess an old man like you would break his weak and fragile bones."

"I'm 23, you prat." Alfred made their descent as quickly and safely as possible and in no time they joined Matthew and Francis on the ground. There was the sound of a gun being fired in the distance.

"So where are we going, eh?"

"Well, we can always go to the mines. Nobody ever goes there that I know of. Since they're haunted…" Alfred shuddered. "Or maybe Gilbert can bunk us for a few hours…"

"I think Gilbert is staying with his brother tonight. And you know Ludwig…He's not a very social person…" the Canadian pointed out.

"Then maybe Im Yong would let us-"

"Alfred…you know very well that he'll try to molest everyone of us…"

"Well, then maybe Antonio could-"

"Antonio has his hands full with Romano." Matthew said. Arthur was half listening. He didn't really care what the two were saying anyways. He slowly took a few steps backwards, spun around, and began to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the three other men. Francis quickly caught on and followed his comrade. Arthur turned a sharp corner and ran into something big. Arthur looked up to see a face with violet eyes and silver hair.

"Terribly s-sorry." Arthur stuttered as he leapt away. The man was wearing a scarf…in the middle of the desert…strange.

"It is no problem." The man said in a thick Russian accent. "Though you should know there's a curfew here. You must be a foreigner."

"Ah yes-I'm currently running for my life, so if you'll excuse me."

"Arthur! You shouldn't be running…around…" Alfred appeared the way Arthur had entered the alleyway.

"Arthur? Arthur Kirkland, da?" the Russian asked. Arthur nodded slowly. "Oh. Perfect!" he grinned madly. Before Arthur knew it, the large man began to pull him roughly into a run. Alfred was in hot pursuit, pulling out one of the pistols he had in the holster around his waist. The Russian pulled a silver gun out of his jacket that, in truth, looked a lot more powerful than the American's. The man dragging Arthur took a shot at Alfred. He missed. Alfred shot back.

"DAMMIT! That was my bloody foot you twit!" Arthur screamed, unable to keep his footing. He gracelessly fell to the ground.

"Well if you weren't running behind him, you wouldn't get shot!" Alfred yelled back.

"So this is my fault!?" the Brit was outraged and was now, literally being dragged through the dirt behind the second kidnapper. It had to be Arthur's lucky day. Kidnapped by two people in one day and getting shot in the foot. Perfect. The Russian suddenly stopped and spun around, tossing Arthur to the side like a rag doll.

"You know, Mr. Jones. You really get on my nerves. I'm amazed you haven't been arrested yet."

"Well, Mr. Braginski, or do you prefer Overlord Braginski?" Mr. Braginski growled. "I think I'll just call you Ivan, like always. Y'know you really get on my nerves too. And you have something of mine. Y'see. That Brit belongs to me." Alfred pointed his gun at the Russian. "I'll be taking him back now."

"I don't think you understand how important he is to me." Ivan said simply.

"He can't be very important to you. Nothing is." Alfred laughed.

"But his influence is important. Do you know how much power he has in his country?" Ivan pointed his own weapon at the American. Alfred didn't even falter.

"Hmmm…Don't care. You're boring me so I'll just tell you what's going to happen. You're going to shoot at me. You're going to miss because I'll jump over to that barrel right over there. You'll shoot again, and hit the lamp right above that very barrel. Take your third shot and hit the window. And then-"

"Will you quit opening that stupid mouth of yours for once?" Ivan hissed, pulling the trigger. Alfred leaped onto the very barrel he said he would, giving Ivan a two fingered salute as he sat perched upon it. He ducked as the second shot was fired. Glass rained down as the lamp above Alfred was shattered. The window was blown out shortly after that, causing Alfred to shoulder roll until he was arms length away from Ivan. Ivan was getting angry. Alfred was met with a shiny, silver gun to his forehead when he got to his feet. He smirked.

"What are you smiling at? You're about to get your brains blown out. Or does the thought of death just make you laugh?" the Russian glared at him.

"Well, your gun only has five shots. You've used them all up." Alfred grinned. "And you didn't let me finish. You're going to shoot your gun, thinking you finally have me, but all that's going to happen is that pretty little piece of metal will click uselessly."

"I've shot four times, Idiot." Ivan replied.

"Naw…it was five. Go ahead and pull the trigger then. Let's see it."

"It's four."

"Five."

"Four."

"Idiot. You're going to die just to prove you're right?" Arthur spoke up. He had removed his shoe and sock and had been looking over his wound. It hurt like hell. Alfred stared at him. It was four shots. It had to be four shots.

"It's 'cause I am right." Alfred replied turning his head to look at the Brit. Alfred was surprised. Arthur actually looked like he _cared _about what happened to him. "No need to cry. I'm right. The hero won't die and let some damsel such as yourself be left with a villain like Ivan." Alfred winked.

"You're cocky attitude is pissing me off." Ivan smiled. Arthur shuddered.

"Then shoot me. I'm having a conversation thanks." Alfred pouted. "Anyway. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…"

_Click._

"…I told you that you had no shots left." Alfred rolled his eyes. Ivan looked like he was willing another bullet to appear. Needless to say, it wasn't happening.

"Okay, Jones. You have won this round and I'll let you keep precious little Mr. Kirkland. But I'll have you know that he has something I want. I will get what I want." With that, Ivan turned and left without another word. Alfred kneeled down beside the injured Brit.

"Sorry about shooting your foot. It was an accident." Alfred explained. His apology was met with a fist to the jaw. "Well I see you're mad at me. But it's not that bad, see? It'll be fine. I swear." Arthur glared at him. "Quick question. Where is that box you brought along?"

"Like I'd tell you." Alfred sighed. He knew that was going to be the answer. "Help me up now. It's your responsibility to fix my foot, since you are the one that did this to it."

"Fine fine…" Alfred got to his feet and awkwardly helped Arthur to his uninjured foot. "Any idea why he thinks you're so important?"

"God you're nosey."

"I'm curious!"

"It's not important."

"How ironic…" Alfred sighed. "Importance not being important…"

"I think it's more like a paradox."

**A/N**

**Uhm-hello again! Sorry for such a long wait. I wanted to make sure to give you all a hopefully decently lengthier chapter. Hopefully it's an okay chapter too o3o it was pretty fun to write I guess. I don't think I did a good job with Russia, otl. And I think I made Alfred really cocky sometimes. Thank you for the story alerts and all that earlier. I hope I make this enjoyable. **_**Please Read and Review.**_


	3. Chapter 3

"That _hurts_, you idiot."

"That means its working, stupid."

"Are you even allowed to perform medicine?"

"It's first aid…"

"Ouch! Don't touch it, git! All you cause is pain!" Alfred F. Jones was currently trying his best to mend Arthur Kirkland's gunshot wound. The latter was unfortunately a little more stubborn than Alfred had anticipated. It had taken him thirty minutes just to get the Brit to sit down and another fifteen to even so much as look at his injured foot. But Alfred was being as patient as he could.

"It's not going to get better if you don't let me help you!" Arthur immediately planted a very hard kick on the American's chest. The poor kid was completely winded and he stumbled back a few steps to escape the angry flurry of feet coming at him.

"It's all your bloody fault I'm hurt! You're the one that shot me! You planned it! I know it!" Arthur growled. "It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't kidnapped me!"

"Oh yes. _Accidentally_ shooting your foot was all part of my plan to seduce you. It's only my number one way to pick up people. You figured me out." Alfred rolled his eyes. Arthur began to turn a soft shade of pink. But only slightly. Alfred had to admit it was cute. "Now are you going to let me finish?" Arthur nodded slowly and put his foot out. Alfred grabbed it, causing the Brit to suck in air. "Don't be such a baby."

"I'm not!"

"Yes you are." Alfred poured a little bit more rubbing alcohol on the wound. He felt Arthur flinch, but didn't bother looking up. The American wrapped a bandage around the Brit's foot securely. That should work nicely. "Okay! All done!" Alfred grinned at his handy work. _Am I awesome, or what?_ Alfred thought to himself. Arthur yawned. "Tired?"

"No."

"You just yawned."

"No I didn't."

"I'm not going to do anything to you. Jeez…you should know by now that I'm the good guy…" Alfred was a little disappointed that he still hadn't earned Arthur's trust yet. "You can sleep in one of the spare rooms. And lock the door if you want to…"

"You aren't going to bust it in or anything?" Arthur asked, cocking one of his large eyebrows.

"No." Alfred replied simply. Arthur started to think it over. The Brit got to his feet, straightened his clothes, and slowly hobbled to a random room. Alfred rolled his eyes. Arthur was not only stubborn, but he was apparently filled to the brim with pride. Great.

Arthur crawled onto the bed in the corner of the room. This whole thing was just not his cup of tea. Everything bothered him. The sand bothered him. The kidnapping bothered him. The stupid box bothered him. What bothered the Brit the most was the fact that he wasn't scared. Arthur was bothered most of all because he was excited about this entire situation. He enjoyed being in an unknown place with strangers. It was just so exhilarating. Arthur groaned.

The Brit reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny little object. "You're not worth all this trouble, y'know." He glared at the little pendant in his hand. It just made no sense that it was so important. There was a rapid knock at his door.

"Iggy! I forgot! I wanted to ask you something!" Alfred's voice whined.

"Who the hell is Iggy?"

"You! It's your nickname! I made it up!"

"Iggy is not my name so don't call me that." Arthur could almost hear the other one pout. The Brit rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just come in then and ask what you have to ask…"

Alfred flung the door open, slammed it shut, and bounded over to Arthur's bed, sitting at the foot of it without so much as asking if he could. "I was just wondering, you remember how Ivan was talking about all the influence and stuff? Did you get what he meant, 'cause I surely didn't."

"It's hardly important…"

"Sure it is! The way Ivan was talking about it made it sound like he'd be back for the same reason!" Alfred argued.

"It's not really so much my influence as it is my dad's." Arthur sighed. "It's really stupid. He's not like, the prime minister or anything; he just has a lot of responsibility and power. He was able to-uh-clean my record because of it-"

"Whoa whoa. Clean _your_ record?" Alfred interrupted.

"I was a bit of a rebel…"

"Like…did you graffiti buildings and stuff?" Alfred laughed. "I can't see you doing that."

"No."

"Hold illegal parties?"

"Wrong again."

"What kind of hellish things did you do to terrorize the government then?"

"Hmm…attacked the navy, stole things from cargo ships, sunk any ship that stood in my way-"

"You're expecting me to believe you were a pirate?" Alfred stared at him with a face that clearly said that he thought everything the Brit was saying was a lie. "You couldn't climb out a window and you were being a baby about being shot…"

"A good pirate doesn't get shot often. But anyway, let me continue." Arthur glared at the American, who put his arms up in surrender. "So my dad pulled a couple strings to make sure I wasn't severely punished for everything. Then he pulled a couple more to get me my job to make sure I stayed out of trouble. I'm not entirely sure why he tries so hard for me. I have 3 other brothers, but whatever." Alfred was silent for a few more moments.

"I still can't imagine you as a pirate…" he finally said.

"Fine! Then don't believe it! I don't care!" Arthur yelled. "Let me ask you a question! Why the hell are you an outlaw? You certainly don't seem like the type to be one!"

"Oh, well. Y'see…it's a really long story, so be more specific."

"Okay, who was that Ivan guy?"

"He's part of this group that sprung up about a year and a half ago. They call themselves Syndicate K, which is such a stupid name if you ask me. But ever since they came to town, they've been getting a bit of a hold on the government. They donate a lot of money, which we need, so nothing really gets done about it. I think they're slowly spreading out to other towns and cities too to get an empire thing. Basically your whole cliché 'I'm gonna take over the world' type of group." Alfred leaned back on the mattress, making himself comfortable.

"So you're an outlaw because…?"

"Well, for one: Ivan seriously hates me. Or he likes me. I'm not really sure which. Both are scary so I think I like the idea of him hating me more. But I am pretty irresistible so he might-"

"Please…get on with it…" Arthur groaned. The last thing he wanted to talk about was relationships.

"Oh right. Two: I deliberately break the stupid laws. Like, they have us under an anti-drinking thing so I smuggle it in. Bars are still allowed to sell it; it's just insanely expensive to actually get a supply. So I help out. I'm like…the Robin Hood of alcohol."

"Wow…what a hero." Arthur mumbled. "Anything else?"

"Nope. So it's my turn. How come you had to bring such an important object over to America?"

"Hell if I know. I'm thinking Dad was probably angry with me since I told him off a few weeks ago for meddling in things he shouldn't be meddling in." Arthur replied, "I don't really think the thing is that important. But then it could be. I'm not really sure."

"Any idea what it is?"

"Isn't it my turn to ask a question?"

"Ask away, then."

"How come you kidnapped me…and Francis?"

"Well, I figured that whatever you were bringing was important to Syndicate K so…that's pretty much it. But good thing I took you along too, hmm? You'd probably tied up in Ivan's basement if I didn't take you too!" Alfred laughed. "Well, and I didn't want another bounty placed on my head. Although Ivan already knows now. So my turn! Any idea what's so important?"

"I'm not supposed to know."

"Is that a yes or a no?" Alfred raised an eyebrow. Arthur looked away from those blue eyes and nodded. "Oh! See? Now this is where I can see you being rebellious. Knowing something you ain't supposed to! So what is it?"

"It's just some stupid necklace." Arthur held out the piece of metal. It glimmered and gleamed proudly as the cowboy looked it over.

"Well…it's pretty…" Alfred offered. He stared at the sapphire star charm that hung proudly on the chain.

"That seems to be it. I really don't think it's very important."

"Well, whatever. I was just confused about what Ivan had said, so I guess I know what I wanted to know now. Anyway, I'm going to go to bed. Holler if you need anything. I'll be in the living room." Alfred pushed himself off the bed, the poor springs groaning and squeaking at the loss of weight.

"You're not going to your room?" Arthur asked.

"You kinda took my room, but whatever. You're hurt so enjoy. I sleep on the couch a lot anyways." With that last comment, Alfred left the room, leaving Arthur by himself. Arthur flopped backwards, burying his face in the fluffy pillows. Alfred's bed smelled a lot like…beef jerky and-was that Coca-Cola? Whatever. The day was tiring and one of the most stressful days Arthur had had in a long time. Sleep was well deserved and very welcome. Arthur had drifted off in no more than five minutes after Alfred left, the necklace still in hand. Arthur was completely oblivious to the sapphire pendant that began to glow a ghostly pale blue.

*~*~*~*

"Alfred. Alfred, wake up." A soft voice demanded as hands tried to rouse the American from his sleep.

"Nnn…five more minutes, Mattie…" Alfred mumbled, rolling over to his other side.

"Alfred…you need to get up and actually work…" Matthew sighed.

"We don't open until noon anyways…"

"It's eleven-thirty, Alfred."

"Like I said. Noon." Alfred curled up into a ball. Matthew crossed his arms angrily. Alfred never helped with getting the bar ready or with the clean up. In fact, the only thing he really helped with was by entertaining and attracting customers. Arthur, who hadn't even been here for a full day, had offered to help. Then Matthew got an idea. "Well, y'know. If you don't want to get up, I don't mind entertaining Arthur for you. All by myself. As in alone."

"OKAYI'MUPNOW!" Alfred yelled as he sprung into action. He stumbled into his room and quickly pulled out a change of clothes-a pair of dark blue denim jeans and a brown and yellow plain flannel shirt, which he didn't bother to button up since he had on a white tank top underneath. "So I was thinking that we should go somewhere that's a little safer than here for a while."

"Why?" Matthew asked, watching his brother move from his bedroom to the bathroom.

"I was thinking that since Ivan and all them know where we are and that we have what he wants it probably isn't the best idea to hang around very long." Alfred splashed his face with water. "And there's no way you can stay here by yourself. Since you're my brother and all."

"I guess that's understandable…" Matthew contemplated.

"So where is Iggy?" Alfred asked excitedly.

"Who?" Matthew asked. His sleepy polar bear stumbled out of Matthew's bedroom and glared at the Canadian.

"Arthur…" Alfred supplied.

"He's downstairs with Francis." The Canadian said, following his brother downstairs, Kumajiro following drowsily. When they reached the last step, they were met with a chair crashing into the wall a mere two inches away from Alfred. Matthew let out a gasp of horror as he hid behind the blue-eyed male.

"Damn frog!" Arthur yelled as he launched himself at Francis, tumbling to the ground and knocking over a barstool in the process. A string of curses erupted from both Europeans as they threw punches at any part of each other that they could. Francis flipped the Brit, whom was on top of him until now, and swung a punch at Arthur's face. He missed and hit the wooden floor. Arthur slugged Francis squarely in the jaw-Alfred had to admit that was one hell of a left hook-and took the opportunity to gain the upper hand by getting back on top. Francis obviously wasn't going to let that happen and he flipped back immediately. They toppled over chairs and stools, knocked things off of tables, and broke a few glasses in the process. Arthur was finally able to get his legs underneath Francis, using them to launch the Frenchman off of himself. Now it was Alfred's turn to step in.

"Not that this isn't entertaining, but you two are destroying this establishment." Alfred grinned, making sure not to move from the middle of the two violent men. Matthew let out a sigh of relief.

"Way to go, frog. You've destroyed the place." Arthur hissed.

"I believe you did most of the destruction. You are just a destructive little boy, unlike my mature self." Francis smirked.

"You little-!" Arthur started towards the frog, only to have Alfred's arms wrap around him, holding him beck. "Let me go! I'm going to kill that French bastard once and for all!"

"No you aren't. You're going to sit down." Alfred directed. Arthur scowled, but sat down nonetheless. Alfred looked him over and sighed. "Are you always so violent…?"

"With Francis, yes." Arthur admitted calmly. Poking his body in random places. "Thirty-two…"

"Huh?"

"Bruises. Thirty-two bruises, seven cuts, and…" Arthur bent all of his fingers and rotated his wrists a few times, "No broken bones."

"You count them…?" Alfred asked dryly.

"Well yes. Francis obviously broke a few fingers so I win." Arthur smirked. Alfred nodded slowly.

"Oh hey! You're wearing the necklace thing!" Alfred pointed out brightly.

"W-well I didn't see a point in it just sitting around. And this is for safe-keeping only! It would probably get broken if it just sat around." Arthur explained. Alfred took a closer look. The blue star pendant had turned a bright shade of pink.

"I thought it was a sapphire…" Alfred said to himself. "Oh! Maybe it's a mood necklace!"

"Shut up…just shut up please…" Arthur sighed. "Even if it was, the color isn't right for my mood.*"

"I wonder if it changes with heat! Lemme try!" Alfred beamed, wrapping his hands around the little charm.

"H-hey! You're going to break it if you aren't careful, stupid!" Arthur growled.

"Look look! It glows too!" Alfred giggled as he looked into his cupped hands. "What a weird necklace!" Alfred let go of the charm and it immediately stopped radiating. It did however stay at its bright pink color. "I wonder what pink means…"

"If it means agitated then it's right on the dot." Arthur groaned.

"Uhm…Al?" Matthew came up behind his brother shyly. "I was just wondering if you would go pick up a few things for me…"

"Sure thing, bro. Whatcha need?" Matthew gave him a piece of paper, which Alfred carelessly stuffed into his pocket. "So, Iggy? Wanna go shopping with me?"

"I guess it can't be helped." Arthur replied, standing up. Alfred nodded in agreement and beckoned for Arthur to follow him. Alfred slapped a floppy hat on Arthur's head saying something about how Arthur would probably sunburn right off the bat, what with the sun never being out in rainy ol' England. Alfred also didn't shut up through the entirety of the walk, Arthur noted. He obviously felt it was his duty to comment on every person, place, and thing they saw-a few anecdotes to go with most everything.

Apparently he and Gilbert, whom Arthur assumed was one of Alfred's best friends, had thrown firecrackers in the bank, making the banker, Vash, very very angry to the point of bringing out a gun and shooting at them for an hour up and down the entire town. They also had a favorite target, the owner of the grocery store. This person happened to be Gilbert's younger brother, Ludwig, whom was 'stiffer than Arthur-which was amazing' according to Alfred. They also enjoyed playing pranks on Feliciano and Romano, Italian twins that had explosive personalities and were easy targets for any prank.

Arthur smiled a bit at Alfred's stories and tidbits. It was kind of nice to be told all of this. He didn't really feel like a victim of kidnapping at all. In fact, Alfred wasn't really doing anything to make sure the Brit stayed with him.

"Here we are! Now you can meet Ludwig! Maybe Gilbert's here too if you're lucky." Alfred beamed, opening the door for Arthur. The first thing Arthur noticed when he stepped in was everything was organized. Perfectly. And everything was clean. Absolutely spotless.

"_Guten Tag_!" a deep voice greeted them from behind the counter. Arthur turned his head to see a rather muscular blond behind the counter. His hair was slicked back, making Arthur wonder how much gel was needed to keep it that way.

"Hiya, Ludwig! Mattie told me to pick up some stuff!" Alfred explained. The German narrowed his blue eyes at Alfred, whom continued to grin like an idiot. Ludwig nodded slightly and Alfred started to wander around the store, beckoning for Arthur to follow him. "So~ Any idea where Gilbert is?"

"I think he's in the back playing with Gilbird." Ludwig answered.

"What d'ya know! It's your lucky day, Iggy!" Alfred said as he quickly grabbed a few items and brought them up to the counter. Ludwig rung them up and Alfred paid for the goods before dragging Arthur into the back of the shop. "Gilbert! I came to visit you so you better get out here!"

An albino immediately stepped out from a doorway, a little chick perched atop his hair. "Oh! And you brought sleeping beauty with you!"

"You had better not referring to me…" Arthur grumbled.

"And he's smart!" Gilbert laughed, flicking the hat Arthur wore down so it covered his eyes. The albino turned his attention to his friend. "So I heard that you had a run in with Ivan yesterday."

"Yea. He was trying to take Arthur for some reason." Alfred pointed a thumb at the Brit standing next to him. "But it was a good thing such an awesome hero like me was there."

"He looks all beat up! Did Ivan do that?" Gilbert smiled pitifully. Alfred shook his head. "Oh! Is he your boy-toy and you went a little too rough on him?"

"N-no! Nothing like that!" Alfred turned a bright shade of red, "Actually, his er-associate did that to him. Y'know. The other guy that was with him, Francis. They almost completely destroyed my bar in the process."

"Oh!" Gilbert laughed. "How cute. He's violent."

"Keep talking like that and I'll get violent towards you." Arthur threatened.

"I'd like to see that." Gilbert smiled, his red eyes flashing dangerously.

"You'd be down before you could say 'oops'." Arthur spat, slipping into a defensive pose.

"I don't think some little Brit like you could take someone as awesome as me down." Gilbert retorted, also moving into a stance.

"C'mon, Iggy. The last thing I need is for you to reopen that gunshot wound." Alfred grumbled as he dragged Arthur by the arm out the back exit. "See ya tonight, Gilbo!" Alfred stopped after a few steps. "Okay. New rule. You are not allowed to fight my friends. Or Francis anymore. Got it?"

"I'm not making any promises." Arthur said simply. Alfred sighed.

"Fair enough."

*~*~*~*

"Do you think Ivan was able to get him, aru?" a man asked absently as he threw a dart at the board, flipping his ponytail back over his shoulder. The man he was talking to shrugged before continuing his piano playing.

"I kind of doubt he was able to get him. Ivan is more of an informant in my opinion." The man said as he keyed a soft and slow tune, his glasses flashing. "And Mr. Jones is a bit protective. I'm assuming he was able to get Mr. Kirkland before our Russian friend."

"I agree. I don't see why we don't just put him in jail or something like that, aru. He's just a pain…"

"All in good time." The bespectacled man laughed as he changed the tune to something a bit more sinister. A pretty woman whom was sitting in the back of the room mumbled something to herself in her sleep, making the other two people in the room give her a questioning look. She continued to mumble, and it slowly got louder and faster. Her silver hair fell into her face and she began to tremble uncontrollably. Her blue eyes shot open before she screamed and fell into a crumpled heap on the floor.

"_He has it. It's waking up. It's angry. He has it…" _was repeated over and over again by the woman. The men gave her one last pitiful stare before returning to their previous activities.

"Any idea what it is, aru?" the ponytailed man asked.

"None."

**A/N**

**Hopefully everything was explained. Sort of. I also hoped I didn't answer everything. That would kill the story! Haha **

***I also looked up the colors for mood jewelry. They vary a little bit, but according to the site I'm using, orange means agitated. Haha So Iggy's basically saying that it would be orange if it was a mood necklace.**

**Please **_**Read & Review**_


End file.
